Along Came Mabel
by faar
Summary: A new girl starts working at Fangtasia and gets involved with one viking vampire. Starts with S1. Eric/OC.
1. Chapter 1

###

 _Next time, maybe check out your future employment place before you say yes._

This was what kept going on in Mabel's head while she surveyed Fangtasia's not-so-subtle interior design.

The lady at the employment center had told her straight up that this was a "vampire joint" and at the time, she had accepted the offer, because humans who worked for vampires were paid double the usual amount and she really needed the money. Esther was starting fresh at a new school after the unfortunate locker incident at her old one. Her little sister had been so angry when two boys stole her lunch case that she set their lockers on fire. Mabel was still paying the parents for the "emotional damage", not to mention Esther's therapy sessions. She had no idea how she was going to make ends meet. These days, the job market was so full, you only had a chance if you tried out for places like Fangtasia.

It's just that…she hadn't expected it to be _this_ obvious.

Everything about it screamed "sex, violence and blood", like a tacky strip club that also harvested your organs. And this was in the daylight.

 _So much for bringing Esther to work sometime._

Although her sister would have been game. She had just turned thirteen and was currently in her "goth" phase, so she would have _loved_ this place. But Mabel was just going to lie and tell her she got a boring desk job.

It didn't help that she was shown around by a suspicious-looking individual who called himself "Longshadow." He was obviously a vampire, but didn't seem to want to confirm that fact. She ogled a bit at his tattoos, which he did not appreciate.

He served as bartender, but he was also a business partner, which made him a bit cocky.

"During shifts, you come to me if you have problems. If I'm busy, you wait. You don't disturb Pam or Northman. You won't see the latter much anyway. Got that?"

She assumed those were important people or other business partners.

"We get ten percent of your tips, which you won't even notice since people come here to throw money on the floor," he continued with obvious disdain in his voice. Mabel couldn't blame him, but she was pretty sure she _would_ feel that ten percent.

"Under contract," he went on, "waitresses can't sleep with clients, especially vampires, unless a paid agreement is settled between the parties."

Mabel doubled up. "Excuse me?"

"This place might be open to fangbangers, but we regulate the banging…if you know what I mean." He leered at her.

"Thanks, but I have no intention of sleeping with anyone," Mabel replied, more than a little annoyed.

"For now," he muttered with a knowing smirk.

"Pretty sure I'll stick to my guns," she insisted, stepping away from what looked like a dry puddle of blood next to the vending machines.

She almost heaved. There were fresh blood imprints on the pool table.

"Damn it, I told Beverly to clean up. Fucking lazy bitch," he muttered with an ominous gruff. Mabel already felt sorry for whoever Beverly was.

"So, here's your uniform," he said, dumping a red T-shirt and a black leather skirt in her arms.

Mabel sniffed the clothes with some apprehension.

"Any questions?"

She was going to ask about health insurance, when a door behind her flew open and a grim-faced man strutted out in a cloud of tobacco. He was wearing a pair of the most ridiculous-looking cowboy boots and had a toothpick in his mouth, which she, seconds later, realized was actually a small blade. Behind him, two young boys, no older than her sister, were carrying out a grown woman on their shoulders. She looked pretty heavy, but the boys just took it in stride.

Mabel stared.

"Just some good ol' family fun," the weirdo cowboy explained as he held the door open for the boys. "Their Mamma had a bit too much to drink."

She realized he wasn't talking about alcohol.

"New meat, Longshadow?" he asked, eyeing Mabel.

"We'll see how she does."

When the "family" had departed, she turned around and gave Longshadow an appropriately concerned look.

"Customers?"

The vampire grinned. "That's one way of putting it."

She tried to inquire further, but Longshadow only grunted. He was not in a chatty mood. She had to make a mental note of that. _Doesn't like curiosity._

"One last thing," he told her just when she was getting ready to leave, "if you piss off a vampire, it's on _you_. We offer protection, but don't think it's limitless."

 _Charming_ , Mabel thought, wondering if it was rude to quit on the spot.

But she still had a little sister to think about.

She grabbed a menu to study at home and promised she would return that night for her first shift.

That's how she ended up working at Fangtasia. And that's how her life unraveled.

###

She arrived early that evening, because no matter her faults, Mabel was always punctual. She wanted to get a better feel of the place and explore it on her own without Longshadow's prying stare. It _would_ be a good idea to figure out all the emergency exits. The place was half-empty, although some tables were already occupied by lugubrious looking fellows and, more and more cars were parking in the driveway. She went to change in an office space behind the bar.

The "uniform" itched and made her feel uncomfortable. It was short on her too. Her bellybutton was exposed and the skirt was riding up her thighs. She figured that was _the point_. The whole ensemble clashed with her carrot-colored hair, but it would have to do. Luckily, there was no mandatory footwear, and she could wear her comfortable sneakers without anyone noticing.

She checked her phone. A text from Esther about the Chinese food in the fridge no longer being edible. Mabel groaned. She would have to run down to a 24/7 once her shift was over.

 _Don't worry, sis. Going out to get some food_ , Esther texted.

 _Not at this hour you're not. Order some pizza. Pick whatever you want_ , she messaged back.

 _Fine, but you're no fun_ , her sister replied.

Mabel knew she tended to mother her too much, but without an actual mother around it was the next best thing. Maybe she'd make it up to her by taking her to the arcade this weekend. Kids still did that, right?

When she came out of the office, she ran smack into a leather corset. Mabel blinked and stepped back disoriented. She was staring up at a gorgeous woman. Her hair was a silky blonde, held up in an eccentric ponytail, her lips were full and luscious and she could see the tip of her fangs as she opened her mouth to speak.

"New girl, I presume?"

She looked old, although her skin was smooth and beautiful. Mabel nodded her head. "Uh-huh."

"Well, good luck to you," she said without much warmth. "You'll need it. Oh, and next time, find a better spot to undress."

Mabel felt her cheeks growing red. "I thought I could - I don't know the place very well, I'm sorry if I -"

The woman chuckled, licking her lips. "Relax, sweetheart. I'm only teasing."

Mabel felt as if she could see through her clothes. She wondered if the woman had been spying on her. But she looked too important for that.

Before she could say anything else, she was just gone. Disappeared in a whiff of air.

That's when Mabel realized the bar was _packed_. You couldn't throw a toothpick. It had filled up so quickly, she couldn't believe it. The other waitresses were already carrying laden trays to various tables. Longshadow was standing at the bar. He threw her a look that meant nothing good. Mabel nodded precipitately, and grabbing her pad and pen, she rushed into the glamour and glitz of Fangtasia.

Club music was already blasting out of the speakers, but it was a very strange techno-trance style. It made you want to dance and sleep at the same time.

Unfortunately, it was very loud so she had to bend down to hear people's orders. And you didn't exactly want to expose your throat in front of a vampire. Which many of them were.

The good news was, the customers were pretty impressed with her memory. She had studied the menu religiously and knew most of the drinks by heart, although she still had some problems with some of the French names.

One older gentleman, accompanied by two young women, tried to teach her how to say Crème de Cerise.

"Sorry, I took Spanish in high school," she said, laughing, but her laughter was cut short when, after asking for three glasses, he proceeded to kiss one of the women's neck passionately. She heard his fangs hatching. And then he was feeding on her, right in front of Mabel.

She gasped, unable to stop herself. She had never seen something like it, up close. Oh sure, vampires were everywhere now and you got used to them easily if you kept to your own turf. But if you were like her, you rarely had an opportunity to see them...in action.

What was really strange was that the woman seemed to be _really_ enjoying it. You'd think getting pricked like that would hurt.

Mabel realized she was staring like an idiot. She looked down politely.

The vampire smiled, dabbing a napkin to his lips.

"Oh, let me get you more of those," Mabel offered apologetically.

"No need to be ashamed, my dear. Have you never been bitten?"

"Nope!" she said, a bit too enthusiastically. "I mean, I'm sure it's very nice."

"Nice? It's not a pair of shoes, you know," the woman who had just been bitten remarked.

"Oh, you'd be surprised how excited I get about shoes."

"Not judging by what you're wearing tonight," the woman said, looking down at her sneakers.

"They're actually very stylish," Mabel joked, tapping her soles together. The older gentleman chuckled and she figured that was her cue to stop blabbering and get the drinks.

When she reached the bar, Longshadow - shocker - was not looking pleased.

"You're not to disturb select clientele," he informed her in a clipped tone.

Mabel blinked. "I wasn't disturbing -"

"He's a Chancellor of the Vampire Authority. You don't chit-chat with Chancellors. Got it?"

Mabel had little idea what any of that meant. Presumably, he was someone of high power. Everyone here had a title. But she didn't get a chance to ask him any questions. Longshadow, as always, was taciturn.

She returned to the Chancellor's table with the drinks.

"Don't mind that surly fellow. These lovely ladies and myself quite enjoy your company," the elder gentleman said when she approached them.

Mabel scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "Pardon?"

It took her a couple of moments to understand. "Oh! You mean my boss. You could hear that?"

"One of the many virtues of being a vampire," he replied with a smirk.

"Well, thank you. I enjoy your company too," she beamed gratefully. Although she made a mental note to watch what she said at all times. Vampires liked to eavesdrop. She was ashamed she hadn't learned more about them. But this new job could be a good opportunity to do just that.

Or...maybe not.

When she turned away from the Chancellor's table and glanced at the teeming crowd, she was shocked to find that several couples were on the dance floor, grinding and touching and sharing blood like it was the commonest thing in the world. She wasn't prudish by any standards, but she had never seen so many bare breasts at once.

Not that she had been sheltered. There had been no Dad or Mom to tell her no, but there _had_ been Esther and she had had to be a good model for her. Which was great because she was sure she'd catch a cold if she removed her top.

Maybe it was just the fact that she was human, but she felt a strange chill in the air. You'd think a bar would be hot since it was packed with so many bodies. But it was quite the opposite. Her skin was covered in goosebumps.

She was about to dash to another table, when she happened to look towards the stage. It had been empty until now.

She saw the gorgeous woman from before, the one in the tight leather corset, walking up to one of the three chairs back-dropped by a red curtain.

A man was sitting in the tallest chair. He was hunched forward, inspecting the crowd with...indifference? Boredom? She couldn't say. His expression, from afar, was unreadable. His shoulder-length blond hair made him look quite dashing, but vampires were pretty good looking by default. There was something different about him, though. She couldn't tell what, but he emanated a very majestic aura. Maybe it was the throne he was currently occupying. She wondered if he was part of the...what was it? Vampire Authority?

Funny, he was looking straight at the Chancellor whose table she had just left. She wondered if they knew each other. And then, before she could turn away, his eyes landed on her.

It only lasted a few moments. His eyes looked onyx black, cold and detached. He didn't give her a second thought. His stare moved on to more interesting characters.

She sighed with relief. He seemed like an intense guy.

"Hello? Can I get a refill here?" a woman shouted to her right. She pointed at her Tru Blood bottle.

"Coming right up ma'am!"

"Hey, who are you calling ma'am? I'm only 97." Mabel blushed. The woman didn't look a day past 35.

"Of course, Miss."

"Well, I'm not _that_ young. Are you gonna offer me your pretty little vein or are you gonna get me some synthetic shit?"

Mabel nodded her head briskly and scurried away to fetch the blood. Esther had once tried Tru Blood. On a dare. She had said it tasted like stale oranges. Of course, she had been grounded for a week.

Her little sister would not believe her ears if Mabel told her what she'd seen tonight. But of course, Esther must never find out about Fangtasia.

This would be her little secret.

* * *

 _A/N: Hi, first timer here :) I've always wanted to write an Eric/OC story, and I finally got the courage to try. Hope you like it!_


	2. Chapter 2

###

The first thing Mabel did when she got home was to kick off her shoes and dive straight into her living-room couch. Her head, unfortunately, landed on the television remote.

"Aargh!"

That's what she needed right now; a bump on the head.

The hot shower she had been craving hours ago was calling to her, but she couldn't find the strength to move from her uncomfortable position.

Was it going to be like this every night?

It wasn't the blood, really. She could get used to that. For all the debauchery at Fangtasia, blood-sharing seemed to be a relatively controlled affair with relatively consenting parties? Or at least, that was the cover story.

What she couldn't get used to was the loud ringing in her head from too much drum and base. And the stink of every possible liquor on her skin.

It just wasn't her kind of scene. Her rebel days had been spent in cutesy diners where you could get into food fights and prank someone by dumping their face into mayonnaise and it was considered pretty cool in her entourage. And _maybe_ you'd have a smoke by the dumpsters out in the back while reapplying lip gloss. Those were the days.

Last time she'd smelled this weird, she'd chugged three beers with her then senior year boyfriend at a party, and felt really stupid when, upon returning home, Aunt Maisie had given her that classic look that always spelled out, "you're a bad influence on Esther".

Well, no. _Wrong_ , Aunt Maisie. Because every time Mabel had felt like being a dumb teenager, she'd pulled back just enough to not let it derail her sister. She'd gotten extremely good at that, throughout the years. So by the time Mabel was finally an adult, Aunt Maisie could finally vacate their house and leave them to their own devices without having to worry they'd burn the place down.

 _Well_.

The locker incident. That had been unfortunate. But Esther had explained why she'd done it and she'd sounded so positively righteous at the time, that Mabel couldn't completely fault her. Maybe it was her bias speaking, but she was sure Esther hadn't done it with real violent intent. She'd known that lighting a few matches was only going to burn some kids' notebooks. But the new school who had accepted her transcript in the middle of the semester had been less understanding. They had demanded therapy and around-the-clock supervision. Mabel had some choice words for where they could stick their around-the-clock supervision.

Still, even with every stupid little thing that sometimes got in the way, Esther was a great kid. No, scratch that - she was _amazing_. So, 'big sis' had been a pretty good influence, all things considered.

But Esther was something else. She had inherited the natural Lorne family curiosity, which also ran through Mabel's veins, but she possessed a separate gene. Something indescribable. A spark that Mabel hadn't seen in their mother or father. A spark that belonged to Esther alone.

It would be no great exaggeration to say that she would go through fire for this girl (hopefully, not a fire that Esther had set).

With that in mind, she got up and went to take a shower. She had to wake her sister in an hour to get ready for school.

###

"So, you just transfer old archives into a virtual catalogue? Yawn. Nice work, Mab. You found the most boring job on the planet."

Mabel snuck out her tongue. "When _you_ get a job, then we'll talk boring."

"Bet you I could get a job as an animal trainer at the zoo. I don't even need the experience. It's all in the confidence," Esther bragged, biting into her toast.

"I thank God every day you haven't applied yet."

"Ha. Just wait. Three more years until I'm sixteen and then I'll be on my track to morally questionable success."

Esther was the kind of thirteen-year old who used phrases like "morally questionable" as part of an average conversation. Mabel couldn't be prouder. But she wouldn't be a big sister if she didn't sneak around her back and dip Esther's chin in her cereal milk.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, nerds need their calcium."

Esther shooed her away playfully. "And old ladies need their beauty sleep. You look like hell."

Mabel agreed silently. She'd need to figure out a sleeping pattern. Preferably one where she was half-sedated while waitressing at Fangtasia.

"Hey, what's that?"

"Huh?"

"You got something…is that glitter? Behind your ear?"

Mabel dashed into the bathroom quickly. "Don't think so."

But there it was, Fangtasia's imprint. A nauseating dab of gold. She scrubbed at it angrily with a towel.

"Mab?"

"It's just some egg yolk. Don't worry about it."

###

"Hey, maybe you should drop the hoodie today? It's pretty sunny outside," Mabel urged.

"Nah. It complements my eye-shadow," Esther shrugged, pulling the hood over her head and giving her sister a wicked grin.

 _She has to be the most well-adjusted goth kid I've ever seen._

With Esther out the door, she could finally get some shut-eye. And, for a spectacular four hours, she did. She had some pretty terrific dream about swimming with dolphins at Sea World – something Esther would definitely not approve of.

And then her cell phone blared angrily in her ear.

"Huh?"

"That bitch Beverly quit on me."

For some mind-numbing seconds, Mabel thought one of the dolphins had called her a bitch. But, no, her name wasn't Beverly. And this wasn't a dolphin.

Then, it clicked. _Fucking lazy bitch_ , he'd said.

"Longshadow."

"No, it's your fucking dentist. Anyway, she left the joint, so I'll need you to pull a double-shift until we find someone new. That good?"

Mabel was kind of surprised that the menacing vampire was even asking her opinion. Although, she suspected his question was more a formality than any genuine intention at gauging her preference.

"Pays extra, obviously," he added with condescension.

"How much extra?"

"How about you move your tush and find out?"

Mabel groaned into the phone. "Give me an hour."

 _###_

 _Beverly was a smart gal_ , Mabel thought darkly, as she tried her darnest to scrub the oily substance out of the plush settee. She didn't want to know what the oily substance was. And she didn't really see the point of cleaning. You couldn't spot the seedier sides of Fangtasia by nightfall, and patrons seemed to _like_ the stylish but dirt-grunge effect of the place.

The cash was a pretty good incentive. With what she was promised, she could maybe consider getting Esther a new pair of glasses. Her sister refused to wear the old ones, which were pink, heart-shaped (gasp!) and, in her words, "for babies".

A door in the back flew open and she saw the beautiful older woman from the night before, the one who'd barged in on her changing. Her cheeks flared a bit. The woman wasn't wearing a tight leather corset anymore, but a kind of kimono, or Oriental dress robe. She looked good in it, of course.

"Ah, new girl. Diligently at work, I see," she simpered, as she walked past her, heels clanking on the floor. "Well, at least someone's putting their wrists to good use around here."

Mabel felt both complimented and insulted in the same go.

It took her a stupid amount of time to realize the woman had just made an incredibly lewd reference. She almost snorted right in front of Longshadow, but she was smart enough to cover it.

Aunt Maisie would have had a heart attack. Mabel's sexual experience was by no means vast, but she had always been a little curious (ran in the family) about certain acts, performed with certain people of the same sex. Girls in her class had called it "experimenting" and "having a phase". Shreveport could still be backwards like that.

In her case, the most "exciting" sex she'd ever had was good ol' fashioned missionary with that same senior year boyfriend. The exciting part was that they did it in his car. No, _not_ when she had chugged the three beers. That was before. There had been some fingering involved, but Andrew (the beau) had gotten bored of it pretty quickly, especially since his run-down Ford Fiesta could hardly accommodate more flexible and enjoyable positions.

 _Wow, okay, maybe you should get your mind out of the gutter. You might be cleaning the remains of a body, for all you know._

###

By six in the afternoon, she had already changed into her uniform and was sloppily finishing a burger and some fries she'd scoured from a fast-food place some blocks away. _This will be great for your metabolism, sis_ , she could hear Esther chirping.

She was more concerned that exposing her mouth to the air in this place could earn her a serious germ problem.

The other girl on the shift was called Ginger, and she was…an eccentric character, to say the least. For one, she was no girl. She kept insisting she was in her twenties, when she had clearly been part of the original Breakfast Club. She was also a huge fan of Avril Lavigne, or someone in that vicinity, because her clothes were catered to that demographic. If Esther was a well-adjusted, cute goth, Ginger was the mauled version of that.

But at least she seemed relatively nice and sweet, when she wasn't yelling about how much she craved carbs but couldn't have them. Mabel tried to hide her burger.

"Here's my advice to you, hon. _Don't_ fall for him, like I did. Just not worth the trouble. I mean, look at me. I doll myself up, I try to have pleasant conversation and it just…it blows in my face, ya know?"

Mabel swallowed her fries. "I think I'll be okay. Longshadow's a creep. You shouldn't be wasting your, uh, charms on him, Ginger."

She made a startled face. "Ewww, what kind of low-down trash do you think I am? No, you silly goose, I was talking about Eric Northman."

The way she said his name, it sounded like the second coming of Jesus.

"He's the owner, right?"

Judging from what Longshadow had told her and the weird sighting the other night, she presumed that the man on the throne had been this elusive Eric Northman. If that was so, she might begin to understand Ginger's infatuation. The guy was pretty impressive, even for a vampire. She remembered the powerful, majestic aura he had emanated and the sort of intoxicating virility that had surrounded him and made him stand out. Oh, yeah, she could see how you could really thirst for a guy like that.

He could have gotten a haircut, though. She wasn't really into the long-flowing-locks look.

But _fall_ for him? Vampires could glamour people, that much was true, but Longshadow had been very clear, during their interview, that the personnel and clientele of Fangtasia was off-limits. If you wanted to share blood, for example, you needed consent. Not glamour. That was the golden rule.

So really, _falling_ for the owner of this "select" locale was a bit overkill.

"He's not just the owner," Ginger expanded. "He's also the _Sheriff_ of this part of Louisiana. That is huge. And I'm not just talking about what he's got between his legs."

"Ha, like you'll ever get near it," Longshadow mouthed snarkily from afar. He had been listening in on their conversation. _That convenient vampire hearing again._

"Oh, don't kill my dreams, will ya?" Ginger complained.

Mabel tried to imagine Eric Northman, the king vampire of this place, wearing a sheriff's boots and hat. She giggled.

Ginger sniffed, aggravated. "Laugh, both of you. But one day, I'll get my chance. And _I'_ ll be laughing then."

###

It was another packed night, which was no wonder. Humans couldn't get enough of vampires and vampires couldn't get enough of humans…and other vampires.

Although she had a better feel of the place now, Mabel did a relatively worse job than she'd done the night before, simply because she and Ginger did not have enough manpower, between the two of them, to contain this mass of activity.

The same techno rave music was making it hard to take orders, and flashing lights could very well make you trip on your own feet if you weren't careful.

The silver lining came in the form of déjà vu.

The Chancellor from the previous night had returned, and he was stationed at the same table, only he was entertaining different girls this time.

Mabel greeted him with strange relief. Here was a man who wouldn't be shouting orders at her or telling her to "fuck off, I'm dancing".

"Good evening and welcome back, Sir," she bellowed over the loud music, sounding perhaps a bit too much like a greeter at Chuck E Cheese. But the Chancellor gave her a wide grin.

"Why, hello, my dear, how lovely it is to see your face again. You're the only one in this establishment with proper manners tonight."

Mabel waved it off, although she secretly enjoyed the praise.

"And you are perhaps the only customer who isn't telling _me_ off. So, what will you have this evening?"

"The same as last time, if you care to recall."

"Of course, Crème de Cerise."

"Ah, très bien! Your pronunciation is already so much better!"

"Thank you. And will the young ladies be having anything?"

"We are a great deal older than you, sweets," one of the women replied with an arched brow. "But scotch. Dry. Same for my sister."

Mabel nodded apologetically. They didn't look older than twenty-six but they did seem more mature in the way they handled their bodies. _So, vampires then._

At least the Chancellor wouldn't be feeding on them. Or if he did, it wouldn't look quite so…wrong.

"Why don't you bring something for yourself and sit down with us? We could gossip about certain people in the room we find distasteful," the Chancellor purred, looking over her head at Longshadow, no doubt.

"He's not that bad, when you get to know him," Mabel lied smoothly.

"A loyal minx, I see. You're a rare treasure. All the same, you should have a drink with us."

"I can't while I'm on the clock, but I am flattered by your invitation."

The Chancellor smiled and nudged one of the sisters next to him. "There now, see? A mortal who shows the right amount of respect and gentility in front of a vampire."

Mabel didn't know if she liked his interpretation of her professional behavior. But she couldn't afford to alienate him and didn't want to, so she curtsied as a joke in front of them, which got a chortle of glee from the Chancellor.

 _Hey, maybe he tips really well._

When she came back with their drinks, he spent another good ten minutes quizzing her on the menu, since he'd been so impressed with her memorizing skills the last time. She obliged him, if a little awkwardly.

"Ah, if Eric Northman knows anything about business, he'll never let you go. I'll put a good word for you, if you wish."

"Oh, you really don't need to trouble yourself."

"It's no trouble! He and I are strange bedfellows, now and again, and he has no choice but to listen to what I say. Why, here he comes right now, no doubt to greet us."

Mabel froze in her toes. She wasn't ready for this. She didn't turn her head around to catch a glimpse. She simply moved sideways and tried to act like she was just writing down orders.

It was hard, though, not to look up at the sound of his voice.

"Chancellor. Second time this week you honor me with your presence. I feel like the Belle of the Ball."

For some reason, Mabel had expected him to sound cold and forbidding, but there was a kind of scratch to his voice, that hinted at humor and mischief. He also had a pretty distinct drawl, but it was doubled by a vibrant tonality in his voice. Definitely vampiric, but also…older. She didn't know why she thought of that. What could be older than a vampire?

"And you _should_ , given that I don't have a habit of extending my visits. But I simply had to return to this delightful bacchanalia of yours. Especially since you've hired such a nubile sprite."

Mabel choked on her own saliva. For the first time, she saw a more predatory look settle on the Chancellor's face. It was nothing like his feeding face. It was _brutal_.

But it disappeared in a flash. She might've imagined it.

By then, she felt another pair of eyes on her. Eric Northman was digging holes into her skull with his stare.

"Mabel," she offered dumbly, dodging his eyes and settling on his sculpted chest instead. He was ridiculously statuesque.

"Enjoy your evening, Chancellor, and make sure you drop by my study before you leave," Eric spoke affably. He even offered a smile, although it looked more like a smirk.

And then, he was just gone. When she looked around the room, she couldn't spot him anymore.

 _Okay, that was ominous._

"Flair for the dramatics, that one," the Chancellor commented. "Now, I insist you sit down with us, for you see, even Eric Northman couldn't oppose it."

"Mabel!" Longshadow called from across the room.

 _The only time I'll ever be grateful for his existence_ , she thought with humor.

"My apologies, Chancellor. Maybe next time!"

And then she dashed like a deer between tables and only stopped, panting, when she reached the bar.

"I know, I know, stop bothering the clientele –" she started, rolling her eyes.

"Go change your shirt in the back room. This one's a size too big."

" _Excuse_ me?"

Longshadow narrowed his eyes. "Did I stutter? Go. Now."

Mabel didn't think the shirt could _be_ any tighter, but she obeyed, because she really wanted her double pay at the end of the shift.

She burst into the back room and started pulling the shirt over her elbows.

"I wouldn't be doing that if I were you."

His voice slipped shards of ice into her blood. He sounded neither affable, nor humorous.

She pulled the shirt back down, flustered.

Eric Northman was glowering down at her, and from where she was standing, he looked like an immovable god. Unnervingly tall, immensely threatening.

" _Mabel_ , is it? A word?"

 _Oh, shit, shit, shit. If I lose my job right now, I will break down. And I'm an ugly crier. Please don't fire me, Eric Northman. Oh, God. And please don't bite me._

She had probably fraternized with his enemy. That was it. By the looks of it, Northman didn't bear the Chancellor a lot of love. But how was _she_ supposed to know that?

"Mr. Northman, Sir, I know I probably stepped out of line back there," she babbled in a plaintive voice, "but I promise you I will _never_ bother the patrons again. I'm a beginner, as you know, but I learn fast and I work hard, and I assure you –".

He lifted a finger for her to be quiet. It was one simple gesture but it had the warranted effect. She clamped her mouth shut.

"Whatever it is you were doing before, keep doing it."

Mabel ogled at him. "Keep…?"

"Bothering the patrons, yes. Especially the Chancellor," he said with a wicked arch of his eyebrow.

"But you seemed displeased that I –"

"Well, I'm not going to act _thrilled_ when the Authority is breathing down my neck. But I mean to find out why they're here."

Mabel tried to seem like she understood the conversation. But she still had to ask.

"What does this have to do with me?"

Eric turned his eyes on her, as if he was just now really noticing her.

"Aah," he said with a devious slant to his lips. "You think you impressed the Chancellor with a recital and a curtsey. If you were any more average, you would be transparent. No, little dimwit. It's not your _unique_ appeal that the Chancellor desires. He couldn't care less. He is using you for something. _Let_ him. Keep him entertained."

Mabel's mouth fell open. A wide variety of protestations got stuck in her throat, seemingly unable to become words. Her cheeks were probably whiter than sheets. She was in shock, she was angry, she was _appalled_. Finally, she found her quivering voice, amidst the storm of feeling bubbling inside her.

"I'm not going to dignify these unprofessional demands with an answer –"

Before she knew what was happening, he had her pinned against the wall. And he hadn't even touched her, but a powerful force had glued her back to the cool surface behind her.

"Listen to me, Mabel Nobody. I could crush you like the bug that you are right this moment and no one would miss your sorry existence. Most mortals have that in common. But you, for once in your life, have been given a purpose. To serve my interests."

There was a cold fury behind his words, but Northman betrayed nothing. He was calm and smooth and deceptively relaxed, when in fact, he was hard steel underneath.

"If I glamour you, the Chancellor will be able to tell. So _do_ as I say and play along. Otherwise, whatever you hold dear in this world will be gone before you release your next breath."

Measured words, delivered with perfect finesse.

Mabel shuddered. The sensation traveled from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. She tried to crawl away from him, but he kept her in place.

"Word of advice from your new boss. _Heed_ my threats."

He didn't have to say it. He exuded it through all his pores. His hand had landed on her shoulder and he was steering her away from the wall, but she felt the infinite force behind those fingers and how swiftly he could commit unspeakable violence. The really scary part was that he looked perfectly calm and detached, almost amiable. Like he was simply showing her the ropes.

How was that possible?

"Now. Change your shirt. Come back out and make yourself busy around the Chancellor. With some luck, he will reveal his intentions towards you soon enough, and you may go back to being Mabel Nobody. Understood?"

His eyes left no room for argument. And he didn't expect any.

But the shaking words came out anyway, because this was her life and it was hanging by a thread.

"What if – his intentions – what if – he kills me – what if I end up dead?"

The vampire cocked his head to the side. "Well, then, you'd better _not_ fuck up, sweetheart."

She saw that he couldn't care less if one of his waitresses dropped dead because of him.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" he asked softly, almost benevolently, which only made her skin crawl.

She shook her head mechanically.

"Good little dimwit," he added glibly, and disappeared through the door behind her.

Mabel stood there for a long time feeling like an absolute fool. Despite the painful dread she felt coursing through her body, nothing could erase the humility of having been chewed and spat out like that. She clenched her teeth and bit hard on her tongue as not to spill any tears. Tears, like Esther's old glasses, were for babies.

She would simply walk out of there and keep walking. Pretend nothing happened. She'd reach the front door and then she'd make a run for it and never look back. Bad idea to be working at a vampire joint in the first place. She and Esther would have to move up North, though…sell the house…create new identities…

Someone whistled behind her.

Mabel's head shot up. Longshadow was standing in the door frame.

"Damn, Princess. You better pick up your face and get back to work if you don't want Eric Northman to pay you a visit again."

She glared at him, imagining she had been glaring this convincingly at Northman. It didn't work.

"On, and if you plan on running off tonight," he added with a sinister chuckle, "plan _better._ Because there's nowhere to run where he won't find you."

With that, she was left alone again. Alone to contemplate the awful night ahead of her, and who knows how many nights to come…

She remembered Ginger's advice. _Don't fall for him_. She laughed a hollow laugh. How could anyone be infatuated with this monster?

Eric Northman was beautiful and otherworldly.

And he was a horrible bastard.

* * *

 _A/N: hi again :) Thank you for your reviews and thank you for reading. This chapter took a bit longer to write because I changed some things along the way and one month led to another. To the Guest reviewer, you're right, but in my story, that rule is a bit changed, for the sake of the plot. This chapter hopefully explains a bit about consent and glamour and blood sharing. Anyway, just to give some background info; this story will follow the plot of the show, but will also really stray in some places. Hope you like it!_


	3. Chapter 3

###

"Are you game, Princess? Or do you need a pick-me-up to do your job?"

Longshadow's words were delivered with deliberate sarcasm - his usual way. He was obviously _not_ going to give her anything to calm her nerves or make her feel more at ease after her recent confrontation with the intimidating Eric Northman.

Mabel sat at the counter for several minutes, trying to formulate the backbone of a plan in her head. Running was, apparently, not advisable. At least not tonight. If she really wanted to detach herself from Fangtasia and Northman, she'd have to do it in time and do it wisely.

Plenty of people quit after the first few days on the job. So she'd wait until the beginning of next week to give in her notice. But right now, she had to be, as Longshadow put it, _game_.

She glanced over her shoulder at the Chancellor's table. He was not looking in her direction, but vampires didn't have to stare at their target like morons in order to acquire information. He could be listening in on her chat with Longshadow and she'd never know.

She slid off the barstool with regret and plastered an artificial smile on her face. She was more or less ready to get this night over with.

First she had to cover the tables she had neglected during her mini-break (if it could be called that) in the back room. Ginger was evidently swamped, and by the reproachful looks directed at Mabel's back, she did not appreciate being left to fight the rowdy patrons alone.

Mabel couldn't focus very well. Her head was full of Northman's threats. He had spoken about her possible demise with such psychotic nonchalance that she was still shaking. She only waited for an opportune moment to return to the Chancellor's table and, well…keep him _entertained_ , whatever that meant. Now that she knew this was her express purpose, it was hard not to be self-conscious. The Chancellor probably found her innocent pedestrian ways amusing, but Northman had specifically told her the man was after something. He wasn't just enjoying his time chatting up the local waitress. He had bigger fish to fry. So Mabel had to pretend she didn't _know_ this. Easier said than done. She would've been better off not knowing.

Esther wouldn't have agreed. _Ignorance is the source of all evil_ , was one of her sister's favorite sayings. And Mabel would concur, except that sometimes knowledge of forbidden things had a way of biting you in the ass.

What she was most afraid of was getting killed in cold blood. Funny, she hadn't feared that specifically when she'd applied for a vampire joint. Mostly because a lot of political leaders of _undead_ origins had ensured the human population that murderous and deviant vampires would be punished harshly for their crimes. But Fangtasia seemed like no-man's-land. And the owner was more than happy to use her as cannon fodder.

Her sadistic boss was right, however. As long as she didn't "fuck up", she might get out of here in one piece and have the chance to put this weird chapter in her life behind her.

"Ah, _Ma-belle_. How good of you to return to our humble company. We were growing terribly bored," the Chancellor greeted her with an unctuous smile. The way he had said her name made her skin tingle a little, but at the same time it was _miles_ better than Eric Northman's cutthroat words. She couldn't find it in her to fear this older gentleman, at least not completely. Maybe it was a clever illusion the grey-haired vampire had built around him, but he reminded her of some medieval knight. Sure, most knights could wield a sword and cut their enemy in half, but they also had a code they lived by. _Don't hurt the innocent._

She was being naïve, of course, but isn't that what Northman wanted? For her to play along?

All right, then.

"My night isn't going great, either. My boss just gave me a bad talk because I spend too much time talking to the clients," she confessed, heaving a dramatic sigh. One of the things Mabel had learned in a leadership seminar in community college was that if you wanted to manipulate someone into trusting you, you had to start with the truth. So, a white lie was serviceable. She _had_ been chewed by her boss, that much was true.

"Oh, goodness, I hope we didn't cause you any trouble," the Chancellor murmured, looking convincingly distraught.

"Well, Mr. Northman said I'm not to waste your time." The next step, the seminar had said, was to take the truth and simply play around with it. Don't fabricate a lie, in case you have to deny your words later. Be creative instead. The Chancellor must have seen her disappear behind a door after their previous encounter. And she was certain he knew she had been talking to Northman. There was no point inventing something else.

"But to be honest, there's no one else interesting here. I'm sorry if that was forward." She didn't have to fake a blush for that. Her cheeks were naturally flushed.

The Chancellor's smile only widened. "My dear, there was nothing forward about it. I find you equally absorbing. Eric must think I am here to pry into his affairs. The Viking is unreasonably suspicious of me…well, he is unreasonably suspicious of everyone. I am truly apologetic on his behalf. You didn't deserve the scolding."

"I take it in stride," Mabel smiled. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Ah, I like your spirit. I still hope you may join us for a drink. Let's spite the Viking together, shall we?"

Mabel had no idea why he kept referring to Northman as Viking. Unless…was Eric that _old_?

"Well…" she trailed off, trying to appear conflicted, "…I'll come by with some drinks and maybe stay for a minute."

"Excellent! We shall be here waiting for you."

So far, so good. The next part was crucial; don't "fuck it up".

###

It was actually pretty boring.

Mabel had expected to have more fun with a Vampire Authority and his two cohorts. At first it was kind of interesting. They told her stories from a century or two ago, when they were still hidden from the world, and had to get by incognito. The tales ranged from the grotesque to the embarrassing, and they all ended in some unconscious bloody feast. Still, she tittered along to their jokes.

After a while, though, it got tiring.

She drank her glass of gin and tonic and nodded compliantly to their anecdotes, but she felt disconnected from the chatter. If the Chancellor really had a devious plan, he was hiding it pretty well. His two vampire friends had warmed up and were arguing about some decapitation back in the 1700s. Mabel had to stifle a yawn. To think she was getting bored. Esther would've died to be in her place.

The Chancellor was watching her intently, but she had to pretend she didn't notice. _What is he looking at?_

The good news was, she still had to move around and act like she was serving other tables. She couldn't just sit with them all night. That would look suspicious.

She was getting a bit tipsy, which Longshadow didn't remark upon. He was watching her intensely, but had nothing to really disapprove of, so far. She was doing her "job", following Northman's orders.

Towards the end of her shift, the Chancellor grew bored of spinning tales and he started asking _her_ questions. Mabel knew she had to be really careful with her words. He was probably banking on her being too exhausted and inattentive to mind her language. And he'd be right.

"Oh, yeah, we're a big family. Lots of uncles and cousins. Our Christmas dinners are insane," she lied smoothly. She was not about to divulge it was just her and her sister.

"Have any of them ever met a vampire, or are you the first?" the Chancellor inquired.

"Heck, no. My Dad met a couple of them and said they were much better behaved than regular folk," she quipped, throwing in some Southern drawl for good measure.

"I believe I would like this man."

"You would, Sir. He has only good things to say about your kind. Mom is less diplomatic. She's…honestly, she's kind of attracted to the idea of being with a vampire. Dad always makes fun of her."

The Chancellor tipped his head back and laughed. "Someone should make her fantasy come true, then."

"Oooh, I think any vampire who got into my mother's business would regret it for the rest of his immortal days," she joked, trying not to think of her real mother, who had been a pretty by-the-books woman and would have probably fainted at the notion of "fangbanging". She kept on smiling for the Chancellor's benefit.

"Why don't you bring her to Fangtasia?" he wondered slyly.

"She's more talk than walk. Truthfully, these kinds of establishments intimidate her because vampires are so glamorous in comparison to the rest of us."

She was laying on the compliments too thick, but at this point, she didn't really care. Her shift was almost over and the buttering up would be over too.

"She is modest, surely. Why, just as you find us fascinating, we find you…equally entrancing," the Chancellor spoke, eyeing her with deliberate hunger. She'd seen this look before. She tried not to break into a sweat.

"Then, you should walk into a Mall and watch us in action. We're not exactly…graceful, I assure you," she replied glibly.

"I suppose you're right, but maybe it is your gauche way of being that makes your kind so appealing."

Mabel fidgeted in her seat. _Just hang in there five more minutes, Mab._

"You haven't mentioned your brothers or sisters," he pointed out convivially. "What are they like?"

Mabel stuttered for half a second. Somehow, her mind could only come up with Esther.

"I have a younger sister." _Dammit_. "But she's super sweet. Loves rainbows and puppies. She's not a fan of vampires," she mumbled quickly. _No, she's not. She'd just like to adopt one. Ha._

"Pity. She must not approve of your working situation, then," he put in amiably.

"Oh, she – she has no idea I work here," she blabbed like an idiot. Her brain had reached a point of complete exhaustion and she couldn't come up with another lie to save her skin.

"My, my. Lying to your sister. That must be the first bad thing you've ever done," he teased.

 _Oh, no. You're not catching me in that old trap. I'm not spilling my sins._

"This has been so pleasant and…educational, but I'm afraid I have to leave. My shift has ended."

And most of Fangtasia was empty by now anyway. Mabel glanced towards the bar. Longshadow was nowhere to be seen. She inwardly panicked. What was she supposed to do? Was she expected to wait for him and relay the information she had learned? What would be the point? There was _no_ information.

"Looking for someone?" the Chancellor quizzed.

"Oh, no, I just – well, I'm supposed to hand in part of my tips to Longshadow."

"Ah, that detestable ruffian has finally left. Well, you should keep all the money to yourself."

Mabel smiled. Hey, this was part of the "job".

"You know what? I think I will."

"I believe we are a bad influence," he smirked with absolute delight.

It took some time to say her goodbyes. The Chancellor even offered to give her a ride home, but she was not that mentally incapacitated. Yet.

In her partially inebriated state, she didn't even remove her uniform as she usually would. She wasn't going to drive home either. She was going to wait for the bus.

Funny, as she was waiting some miles ahead at the bus stop, she could have sworn she saw that strange man again. No, not the Chancellor. The bizarro cowboy from her first day, the one with the ridiculous boots. She still remembered how his kids had carried his unconscious wife out of the bar. What was he doing here at five in the morning?

Then, another funny thing - he got into a car by the side of the road. When the window rolled down, she swore she saw one of the Chancellor's vampire friends lift her arm to him.

###

She wasn't even sure how she got home. But when she did, she crashed right on the living room couch, per usual.

She was rudely woken up by her phone.

"Shut it off!" she mumbled into the pillow.

But the annoying jingle kept drilling into her frayed nerves. She was close to throwing it against the wall, but she stopped at the last minute and pressed it to her hair-plastered cheek.

"Mmm-call-again-later," she muttered with the coherence of a toddler.

There was a moment of silence on the other line. And then a cool and precise voice cut through her drowsy haze like solid ice.

"...well?"

Mabel rubbed her eyes.

"Mr. North-ham? Oh! I meant _Northman_ , I'm _so_ sorry -!"

She could practically hear the sigh on the other hand.

"I don't have all day, little dimwit."

Mabel looked out the window. "It is actually day now…" She checked the watch on the TV set. Nine o'clock in the morning.

"You are trying to my patience."

"Wait, I'm sorry, how did you get this number?"

" _Really_?"

Mabel slapped her forehead. _Of course_ , she'd included it in her resume. And Longshadow had called her on this number too, which made sense and _oh man_ , was she a moron –

"I am giving you five seconds to say something useful, or I'll make sure you never find decent employment again."

Mabel panicked. The string of words that came out of her mouth was inelegant, to say the least. "He didn't say anything! I mean, I waited on him hand and foot all night, but all he did was talk about the old days when he fed on uuuh, on people in the French court. I think."

The various gruesome tales had become one giant Anne Rice-filled orgy in her head and she couldn't distinguish the details anymore.

"What else?" he asked with cool contempt.

"Um, that was mostly it. His two friends also talked about decapitations – oh, and he asked about my family."

Northman paused. "What about your family?"

"Just the usual. I mostly lied. It was nothing."

"Hm."

Mabel scratched her head. Was that a good 'hm', or a bad 'hm'?

When the silence stretched on uncomfortably, she asked in a small voice,

"May I go back to sleep now?"

He hung up on her.

###

"Crap."

"What?" Esther asked, with a raised eyebrow. "You don't usually talk about feces during dinner."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Don't start. I just remembered I forgot to put a file back at work."

"Ooh, riveting," her sister snickered.

They were having lunch-dinner together. She had slept off most of the day and had missed Esther going to school _and_ returning too, which was an event in the family. She'd barely had time to sneak into the shower and hide the uniform she'd slept in.

"Boy, they're really making you sweat over there."

"Yeah, I gotta push some pretty heavy trolleys." But the reason for her slip was quite different. She had forgotten to mention the suspicious cowboy's return to Eric Northman. Maybe it didn't count for much. But maybe it did. Especially if he was friends with the Chancellor and his crowd.

The problem was, her boss had called from an anonymous number (of course) so she couldn't just contact him back. She had to speak to him when she went for her next shift. And she really didn't feel like revisiting their previous conversation in the back room.

"You know, I think I'm gonna quit soon," she informed Esther.

"Wow, what? Why? I thought we needed the money."

"Hey, settle down. We do, but I need to take care of you more and I can't just sleep through your teenage years. It wouldn't be fair on the unsuspecting world."

Esther hit her leg under the table. "You're the one to talk."

Mabel didn't look forward to the depressing prospect of hunting for a new job, but Eric Northman was enough reason to change her attitude.

###

The Chancellor didn't return for the rest of the week, which was a blessing in disguise. Although, it raised some questions too. Mabel still hadn't worked up the courage or the mood to go talk to Northman about what she had seen. She didn't want to start anything. She just wanted to give in her notice soon. Preferably Monday.

And then, Saturday night, she met Sookie Stackhouse.

It was the usual crowd at Fangtasia, except for _her_. Mabel caught the cute pink dress from the corner of her eye and instantly thought some unsuspecting victim had been dragged into this hellish den against her will. The bottle-blond hair cascading down her bare shoulders did nothing to change that impression. Mabel made sure Ginger didn't get to them first. She was going to try to accommodate this girl as much as possible, and hopefully check for any glamor signs.

She was on the arm of a broody-looking vampire, who scowled every other minute, and seemed to only have eyes for her. Mabel was weirdly reminded of the Chancellor. The same knightly, old-timey elegance. The girl didn't mind his presence. She leaned on him quite comfortably. That _could_ have been the glamor, though.

"Hello, and welcome to Fangtasia! I'm Mabel, I'll be your server tonight. What can I get you two?"

She expected for the vampire to do the talking, but the blonde instantly started chatting her up, asking for recommendations, wondering if they served Pink Martinis and whether someone could open a window. She was spunky, fast-talking and _confident_. Mabel was impressed. This girl didn't look glamored at all. She laughed at the eccentric patrons and asked Mabel what she thought about the "vamps". She clearly didn't take them seriously. She might have been a bit nervous, but she didn't let it show.

Mabel could not remember what she replied, because the girl quickly changed the subject to something else. She was hypnotized by this blonde beauty. She was quite _painfully_ gorgeous. In fact, Mabel was certain the whole bar was watching her. Oddly, the first thing that came to mind was Tinkerbell. She reminded Mabel of that mischievous fairy from _Peter Pan_.

After she brought the first round of drinks – and Tru Blood for the vampire – she even found out her name. Sookie Stackhouse. It had a homey feel to it. It didn't match her exotic beauty, but it made her warm and approachable. Mabel decided she liked her. She couldn't stop staring anyway.

As the night wore on, she realized someone else was staring too. _No_ , not just 90% of the bar. _He_ was watching her too. Eric Northman had taken his crown seat up on the stage and his eyes were drinking in the newcomer with obvious interest.

Mabel didn't know if this would come in handy later, but she registered his reaction it with some satisfaction. Even that marble statue was moved by someone like Sookie.

When she dipped into the hallway some time later, she found a female vampire sniffing around the men's room. She was asking a guy called Reggie to please come out and let her "taste his sweet ass". Mabel wondered if she should go up to her and recite the blood-sharing rules of the establishment. She had already learned them by heart. This lady didn't seem keen on consent.

But then, Reggie parted the bathroom door and gave her a wicked grin, licking his lips.

 _Oh, okay…so he's down with this_ , Mabel thought, wrinkling her nose.

Something was off about the scene, though. She couldn't pinpoint what it was, but it made her skin crawl.

When she returned to the main room, she was surprised to find that Sookie and her vampire friend had been called up to Eric's throne. Mabel wondered what they were talking about. The broody vampire did not look happy, probably because Eric was about to "steal his girl". Except, the blonde beauty seemed to be mouthing off every other two words her boss was saying. Mabel laughed inwardly. _Serves him right._

Mabel couldn't say she sensed the uproar before it happened. But her body _must_ have been ready, because she found herself running before she even thought about it.

There were shouts everywhere, people being tossed over tables, and uniforms turning the place upside down. Police uniforms.

And suddenly, she remembered why the scene in the hallway had left her with a queasy feeling in her stomach. She had seen Reggie's badge in the opening of his coat.

 _Holy shit._

By the time she realized what was happening, her auto-pilot legs had led her to the rooms in the back and she was opening doors at random, even places where she was not allowed to go, trying to find a place to hide. She settled for a giant desk. She crawled right under it and pulled her legs to her chest, hoping to God no one would find her there.

She could only contemplate the horror of getting arrested and what that would do to her permanent record.

Mabel waited with bated breath. The sounds of the clash were dim now. It could've been any drunken brawl, but she knew it wasn't. Cops meant trouble, especially when vampires were involved.

Gradually, though, the sounds died off and an eerie silence settled all around her. When she heard a door open, Mabel was too paralyzed to move. She screwed her eyes shut, determined to wait it out until the cop called out for her.

She couldn't hear any steps, though.

" _Aah_!"

A hand had dug deep into her scalp and was pulling her up by the hair the same way you'd pick up a loose thread from your clothes.

Her mouth contorted in pain. "Let go!"

"Ah. Little dimwit."

Eric Northman's face swam into view. He looked vaguely annoyed and disappointed.

"And here I thought you would be a threat." He dropped her to the floor like dead weight.

"Ouch," she complained, already feeling the bruises on her elbows and knees. She rolled on her back, looking up at the ceiling. He was staring down at her. Goddammit, why was he so tall?

"What were you doing under my desk?"

Mabel scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "I didn't know it was your desk, Mr. Northman."

" _Clearly_."

Mabel raised herself up. "Are the police…?"

"Yes. And I suggest you go help with the cleaning up."

She would've liked to ask more questions, but his mien looked forbidding. Well, he _always_ looked forbidding, but it wouldn't be a good idea to rile him up just now.

Still, she hesitated. "It was a plain-clothes police man. I saw him in the men's room. He was…I think he was trying to get this vampire woman to feed on him. Reverse psychology or something."

Eric gritted his teeth. "I already gathered it was an _inside_ job, Marlene."

"It's Mabel, actually –"

"What I don't gather is why you didn't immediately come to me with this information."

 _Seriously_? He was giving her flak? Mabel tried to restrain her voice.

"The raid happened _right_ after that, I didn't even have time to get out."

"No, but you had enough time to run into my office."

She tried not to blush. "I'm sorry, Mr. Northman. I didn't know –"

"– it was my office," he finished for her, rolling his eyes. "Do you _know_ anything?"

"I know that Fangtasia could use better security," she mumbled under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

Mabel froze. "Er, what I mean is, we should screen the people who come in here."

Eric raised an eyebrow. "People or vampires?"

She shrugged, trying hard to keep her cool. "Everyone, really."

"Insightful," he mocked. "Anything else you'd like to add?"

 _You could tell him about the cowboy._

Except, Eric clearly wanted her to leave. So she bowed out without another word. At the door, however, she heard him say,

"Your friend, the Chancellor, wasn't here tonight. A stroke of luck for him, I'm sure."

Mabel's ears were burning. She dashed out.

 _I'm definitely quitting on Monday._

She wondered vaguely if Sookie and her friend had got out of there all right. But she didn't have time to ponder.

 _Yikes_. The bar was a mess. She grabbed a mop.

* * *

 _A/N: hello, again :) Thank you for your reviews and for reading! And many thanks to the Guest reviewer, I appreciate your enthusiasm! I hope this chapter didn't disappoint. Also, I should mention I'm not a fan of "love at first sight", so Eric and Mabel will go through some development before they really start liking each other. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it! _


	4. Chapter 4

###

Mabel couldn't sleep very well for the next two days. She kept having the same recurrent nightmare in which a police officer burst into her house and cuffed her for being a "dirty, good-for-nothing fang-banger". She always woke up feeling stupid more than afraid. The raid had really done a number on her nerves. Longshadow had only taken five percent of her tips, for once, but that hadn't made a difference on her grim outlook.

She had already written up her resignation. She expected Northman to be particular about documents.

Here she was now, hunched over the laptop on a Monday night (thanks to the raid, her shift had been moved to Tuesday), looking for a new job. She had always wanted to work in retail...right?

She clicked dispassionately from one link to the next. She updated her LinkedIn profile. She googled how to cope with "unemployment sadness", but she stumbled upon a veteran story, about how poor old people who'd fought in the Korean War were living on food stamps, and she felt guilty by proxy. Because here she was complaining about her vampire job.

So, she googled "how to stop whining and get the job you want". There had to be a self-help book about that. There were several. She clicked some pages at random.

"Stop wasting your time on non-productive activities (i.e. TV, Internet surfing, drinking alcohol, etc.)," she read, making a face. "But if I hadn't internet-surfed, I wouldn't have found this!"

Another brilliant little tip went as followed: "Start taking small actions every day towards your dream."

Mabel heaved a sigh, resting her chin in her hand. What even _was_ her dream? Did everyone have to _have_ a dream? Couldn't you get by without one of those?

She googled "jobs for people without dreams". Well, it turned out that if you searched "job" and "dream" in any context, you just got the usual "how to land your dream job" article. Which was _no_ help. None at all.

"Thanks, Internet."

Maybe her dream was Esther. Okay, that sounded creepy. But taking care of her sister and making sure she'd have a pretty great life - couldn't that be a dream?

 _Still pathetic_ , she replied to herself.

If Esther was going to go places, Mabel needed a lot more money than what their parents had left them.

There was always the promising V-blood market. She already had a head-start with Fangtasia.

"Only as a last resort," she muttered to herself.

###

On her last day of work (minus the other seven days in her notice, but those didn't count), Mabel had the satisfaction of confirming a few suspicions. Number one, Ginger was way more chicken than her. She kept looking around furtively, like she expected someone to attack her. On top of that, Ginger thought everyone was a secret spy working for the government. She questioned Mabel endlessly whether she had tipped the police off.

Number two, Eric Northman still had an interest in Sookie Stackhouse.

Yes, he was in a pretty foul mood because Fangtasia had had to pay a pretty steep fine and submit some reports to local _and_ vampire authorities, but his mind was still thoroughly engaged with the mysterious blonde beauty.

Mabel found out about this when she heard Pam and Eric talking. By accident.

In her defense, she had been walking towards his office to submit her resignation. Yes, she wanted to go to Northman directly, because she knew Longshadow would give her a hard time about it. And while Eric was no piece of cake, it stood to reason he might be happy to see her go?

The Chancellor, if he was coming back or not, had probably managed to screw up Fangtasia already. She knew Eric suspected him for the raid. He had been very clear about that during their last discussion. So, why keep her around, unless he was a horrible sadist _and_ masochist to boot?

As she edged closer to the door, she heard the endings of a few replies.

"...why you're giving her so much thought. So, she's fucking psychic. Big deal, plenty of people have mastered that dying art," Pam was saying with absolute distaste in her voice.

"...she's not a regular charlatan; she seems genuine. I want to know why and more importantly, _how_. Even you can't deny you were drawn to Sookie," Eric replied.

 _Psychic? Like on TV?_ Mabel wondered, puzzled. Suppose the supernatural was easier to swallow now, what with vampires. There _had_ been something electrifying about that girl. But reading minds? She had a few doubts. _Did Sookie read Northman's mind?_

"Drawn or not, you don't know if she really read that cop's mind. It could all be a trap. Ever occur to you she was sent by your enemies to mislead you?" Pam questioned.

"Of _course_. That is exactly why I need to know more."

Mabel didn't know what to make of this dialogue. If Sookie really was a spy, she was a pretty nice one. It did slightly amuse her that the big bad vampire was all knotted up over a pretty girl. Mabel snorted.

She'd forgotten, vampires have very good hearing.

"Come in, little dimwit, and share the joke, why don't you," Eric called, from beyond the door. He sounded like he was going to step on her the minute she walked in.

"Actually, it can wait!" she bellowed, rushing out into the bar.

###

The problem was, maybe she was just as much of a chicken as Ginger, because she kept missing opportunities to go speak to him. On purpose.

It was not a very busy or crowded night, which made sense, given recent events. Hardly any tables were filled, but there were enough customers with enough money to give the place the veneer of Fangtasia.

So, she told herself that doing good on her last day of work (minus seven more) was important for her self-image. She wasn't fooling herself. No one here would give her a good recommendation. But she could, at least, walk out of there with her head held high.

And then, around ten, the weirdo cowboy showed up.

Mabel froze in her sneakers. She had trouble keeping the platter up. The timing of his arrival was _spooky_ , to say the least.

Well, he was probably a regular customer.

Still, he had gotten into the Chancellor's limo. This would be a good time to run to Eric, tell him about the cowboy and also hand in her resignation. He would be in a generous mood because she had delivered important information and - who knows? - maybe he'd even be willing to let her march out of here with most of her life intact.

But of course, she simply turned to the table she was serving and made busy.

 _Coward, coward, coward_ , she recited in her head.

She didn't get the chance to serve him; Ginger got there first. She was secretly glad. But she observed the cowboy from afar, when she thought he wasn't aware. He could have been, though. Vampires probably had heightened senses. Could he tell she was staring?

It was Longshadow who pulled her out of her reverie.

"Hey, Princess. Table 9. One of the girls just puked herself. Go clean up."

Mabel realized with dismay he was right. A young woman who didn't look much older than her was bent over the table and heaving. Her friends, a woman and a man, were patting her on the back, trying to comfort her in some way. When Mabel approached them with great reluctance, she smelled something familiar. It always reeked in some of the shadier parts of Shreveport. Cheap, synthetic blood.

She rolled her eyes. Someone - probably her friends - had tried to give her "V-blood", only they had probably purchased a really bad knock-off. She saw news reels about stuff like this on TV, usually under the section "America's morons", because really, the smell was so obvious, a toddler could tell this was icky stuff you shouldn't put in your mouth.

Mabel grabbed the mop and tried to do her best to clean-up and assure the victim she would be okay. The girl looked blue in the face. Mabel patted her shoulder awkwardly.

"Just give it a day or two. Drink plenty of liquids and rest up. It'll act up like a stomach bug."

She wasn't an expert or anything, but she had watched and read enough about "V-blood" to know what to do. Mainly she had gathered all the info in case Esther ever got the _brilliant_ idea to try some.

She was surprised, however, when Longshadow himself showed up at their table, looking his "friendliest".

"We don't need this shady shit right now. You, all of you, pay your drinks and get outta here. Come back when you're clean."

His tone brooked no argument. The three friends, all human, scurried out without a single complaint.

Mabel was surprised to find that she approved of her overseer's methods, for once. Those kids were better off elsewhere.

Unfortunately, this eventful episode had drawn her attention away from the cowboy, and when her gaze returned to his table, she found him gone.

 _Uh-oh._

He might've just left. But no one left Fangtasia too quickly. Maybe he went to see Northman.

She told herself to keep an eye out for him, but as the night wore on and more tables got filled (though not quite to the usual extent) she got busy enough to neglect him.

Ginger came over at one point to "chat".

"I know it was you. You were in it with the cops. I bet you'll get a good deal out of this."

Mabel laughed. "Did you take some V-blood too, Ginger?"

"Laugh all you want but revenge is a dish best served cold," she said, with infinite wisdom.

"What does that even mean? Look, are you sure you don't need to sit down?"

"Riiight, so you can lower my defenses. I don't think so, I got my eye on you, Missie."

Mabel didn't know how it was possible, but she might even miss Ginger. She was definitely a wild card. Kind of like the crazy aunt you were secretly fond of.

Around midnight, she took a small bathroom break and sat on the toilet seat for ten minutes, contemplating her future. Mabel didn't know what was going to happen in the next few weeks. She might get a decent job, she might not. She was motivated by her sister, but de-motivated by herself. She knew she could be a good worker, but what did she want out of life?

"Well, I'm not gonna figure it out here."

She slipped back into the bar. And ran straight into Ginger again, who looked irritated.

"I promise I didn't go into the bathroom just to talk with my fellow cop buddies," Mabel said, humoring her.

"I don't care what you did! But you best take care of your niece, or whoever she is. She's not allowed in here."

"Huh?"

"Some kid's at the door, saying you're related to her and she lost her house key."

And then the sky crashed down on her.

 _Esther._

Mabel pushed Ginger out of the way and headed for Fangtasia's doors.

 _Oh, God, how did she figure out -_

Her sister was notoriously smart, but she had been so careful. Not careful enough, it would seem.

There was no one in the entrance hall, however. No one at the doors either, except the usual loiterers.

"Have you seen a thirteen-year old girl? She's about this tall, and she's got brown hair."

They shook their heads lackadaisically and went on chatting and smoking.

Mabel tried not to lose her cool and searched the parking lot patiently, because Esther liked to play games sometimes. She might be hiding from Mabel to punish her.

"Esther? Hey, come out, kiddo. We can talk about this!"

She looked between the cars, inside the cars, under the cars...

"Esther, this isn't funny! Hey, come out already! Esther?"

Then Mabel realized that Ginger was probably not the most reliable witness in the world. Her sister could have gone past her. She might be inside right now, getting leered at by some 200 year-old vampire.

She turned to go back in, when her shoe stepped on something sharp.

She bent down and picked up a golden spur.

Mabel froze. She had seen this spur, or at least she knew the boot it belonged to.

 _The cowboy._

###

 _"Hey, you've reached Esther, who is now dead because of you. I hope you're happy."_

It was one of her sister's usual sardonic voice-mails but it made Mabel's blood run cold. She steeled herself.

"Kiddo, please call me back when you get this. I'm worried. Just call me back ASAP."

Mabel tried the home phone next, but the same thing happened there. She left the same message, for good measure.

She clicked her phone shut. Her hands were shaking. She realized she had three options available; drive home and see for herself that her sister wasn't there, drive to the police and file a missing person report, or...go to see Eric Northman.

Option number one would eat up the time that could be spent finding her sister. Option number two was tempting, but this was vampire business. The police could only help so much. Humans always ended up getting hurt. They were no match for immortal blood-suckers. And this cowboy could be miles away by now.

She made her choice in a fraction of a second.

She ran back into the bar and didn't stop until she reached Eric's office. Pam tried to stand in her way, but she moved aside when Mabel showed her the resignation letter.

She stuffed it back in her pocket and marched into the room.

Eric Northman was casually stirring his drink while looking over some photos.

"Little dimwit, you better make it quick -"

She went up to his desk and slammed the golden spur over his photos with the kind of courage she hadn't thought possible.

Northman was almost shocked for an instant, before a glacial look settled over his features.

"Insolent brat -"

"I don't care, this is urgent. You _have_ to help me. My sister was taken."

Eric watched her impassively. "How is that my concern?"

"She was taken from _Fangtasia!_ Someone kidnapped her. Someone you _know,_ " she said, pointing at the small star.

The vampire had the gall to snort. "A spur?"

"It belongs to a cowboy, a cowboy who's been around before."

Eric's eyes darkened imperceptibly. "Yes, there is one such _cowboy_. I still don't see how this affects me."

Mabel gaped. Did he not have a goddamn conscience? At least some kind of reaction? No, apparently not.

"Ginger said you're the Sheriff of this area! Someone from your _establishment,"_ she spat, finding it hard to rein in her temper, "decided to take my baby sister. It affects you!"

Eric only snickered. "That's rich. You think a Sheriff goes looking for every missing child?"

"But -"

"Was your sister served any alcohol or Tru Blood?"

"No, she got kidnapped! That's what I'm trying to -"

"So, she didn't make it to the bar, which means she was probably picked up at the door. Hence, not my immediate concern. If my men report anything unusual -"

Mabel was shaking with rage. She couldn't believe this. He had the nerve to take this lightly. She raised her hand to slap him. Eric caught her wrist so quickly that her muscles screamed. "Careful, little dimwit. You might cut yourself."

Mabel felt tears smart her eyes. She almost dissolved into hysterics there and then. She took one ragged breath.

 _"Please._ She came to see me, she didn't know what she was doing. That cowboy took her."

Eric did not let go of her wrist, in fact he applied more pressure to it. His gaze, however, was less forbidding.

"What proof do you have, beyond this...item here?"

Mabel staggered. "I..."

"Do you even know what he is?"

"No."

Eric dropped her hand with a sigh. "He's a collector."

"What does he do?" she asked in a small voice.

"He _collects,_ of course. For the right price."

"Collects what?"

"Not puny little humans, if that's what you're wondering. He wouldn't bother with your sister."

Mabel shook her head stubbornly. "I saw him get into the Chancellor's limo, the other night."

Much to her shock, Eric did not look surprised.

"Collectors are in the business of seeking out rich patrons."

"Are you saying the Chancellor -" She was going to be sick. She saw dark spots before her eyes. It was Northman who grabbed her shoulder to steady her.

He pushed her into a chair, wiping his hand.

"I'm not saying anything. The Chancellor does not care for humans either."

"He asked about my family."

Eric rolled his eyes mercilessly. "Merely social forms. Your sister was probably taken by some low-life vampire. One of my men will track him. Or the Authority will."

But Mabel couldn't shake off the conviction that it _was_ the cowboy, and it _was_ Chancellor. Everything had all led to this. Why else had someone so important spent so much time talking to her? Northman had said it himself. He was _after_ something.

 _"You_ told me to keep the Chancellor entertained because he wanted something," she retorted.

"Yes, I imagined it was something important, not your brat sister."

"You don't know that!"

"Neither do you."

"But - but," she stammered, not knowing what else to say, "he probably caused the raid!"

"I am aware."

"And you're not going to punish him?"

"By doing what? You don't hit a blow with another blow, little dimwit. You wait."

"He's got my sister!"

Eric was looking downright impatient by now.

"At least, please tell me where I can find him!" she begged.

He chuckled. "You'll be dead before you cross the threshold."

"You could go to him, _please_ , and see if he's the one who took her -"

"I will do no such thing."

Mabel was at the end of her tether. "I will do anything! Anything you want!"

Northman took a sip from his drink. "And what would I want from someone like you?"

 _Nothing,_ that much was true. But she didn't care if she had to lie or maim to get her sister back. She didn't care what it took. When she opened her mouth, she said,

"Sookie Stackhouse. I can get you Sookie Stackhouse. I _will."_

* * *

 _A/N: hello again :) Thank you for reviewing and reading! Thanks also to the Guest reviewer, Mabel will be kicking ass in her own way, even though she's not necessarily "special". Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter and please review!_


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